Maybe
by jo-zabby
Summary: Their first kiss had been their last, and Jo was determined to change that. Maybe Dean wouldn't have to live without Jo after all. (AU set after season 5's "Abandon All Hope") Disclaimer: I own nothing :)
1. Maybe

_NOTE: This is set right after season 5's "Abandon All Hope" and contains spoilers for that episode. Read at your own risk!_

_Maybe_

Dean watched as the picture was engulfed in flames, his eyes focusing on Jo.

_His _Jo.

Dean's mind immediately flashed back to his final moments with her. He had never told Jo how he felt; Dean planned to about a million times and in a million different ways, but never found the courage to actually speak the words aloud. With one kiss, Dean had tried to tell Jo how important she was to him, how a day didn't go by where he didn't think of her, how he'd fallen in love with her the moment she'd pressed that rifle against his back in the Roadhouse all those years ago…

Dean's eyes welled with tears as he watched Jo's face finally turn to ashes. He knew he had to make an escape, so he cleared his throat awkwardly, making some lame excuse in a desperate attempt to flee the room. He was careful not to make eye contact with Sam or Bobby as he left, but Dean could feel the pity in their eyes as he walked slowly down the hallway and out onto the front porch.

Dean walked calmly down the steps, but broke into a run the second his feet hit the earth. He didn't know where he was running to, exactly; he just knew he needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and the real world-the world without Jo.

How the hell was he going to live without her?

Dean ran as fast as his legs would carry him and only stopped when he tripped on a stray tire. He caught himself on a rusty old Volkswagen Rabbit on the far side of Bobby's junkyard; he didn't know why, but something about the way the full moon glistened perfectly on the windshield filled Dean with rage. Picking up a discarded pipe lying at the base of the car, Dean beat the car relentlessly: denting the doors, busting the headlights, crushing the hood, and basically destroying the helpless little car in front of him.

With each blow, Dean grew angrier and angrier. "Why the hell did you take her?" he shouted. "You stupid sons of bitches, you had no right! NO RIGHT!" He hollered every swear word and insult he knew at the top of his lungs as he smashed the pipe into the car. He only stopped when a shard from one of the side mirrors flew free and sliced across his bicep, managing to cut through three layers of clothes. Interestingly enough, Dean didn't feel the pain.

Maybe it was because he was so emotionally traumatized that any physical damage to his body couldn't compare to the pain he was feeling inside…. Or maybe it was just because his arms were numb from the cold.

Either way, the cut seemed to snap Dean out of his destructive streak. He sunk slowly to the ground, leaning his back against the car's fender. He looked down at his trembling hands and finally broke down, letting the pent up tears stream freely down his face. Great hiccupping sobs racked Dean's body and left him gasping for air.

He'd never cried so hard in his entire life.

Dean compared Jo's death to the deaths of his parents and brother; not how they actually died, per se, but how he felt after they died. When his mom died, Dean felt like his whole world was spinning out of control, as young children often do when a loved one dies. When his dad died, Dean felt inhumanly angry, and when Sam died, he felt a horrible combination of the two.

When Jo died, he felt something new, a whole new branch of pain that he had never experienced and that words couldn't even begin to describe. Dean was shattered in a way that could never be repaired, not with Bobby's alcohol or Sam's sympathy. Not even Castiel's angelic healing powers could ever make Dean feel entirely whole again.

He was completely and utterly heartbroken.

Dean pulled his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms on top of them, resting his forehead on his forearms as the tears continued to pour down his face. He should've called her. He meant to call. If he would've just called maybe it wouldn't have ended this way… Dean sat with his phone every night, Jo's number already dialed and his thumb hovering over the call button. He thought that by not calling he was protecting her…

He should've just called.

Dean was snapped out of his blame-filled reverie by an eerily familiar voice speaking behind him. "Must say, I never pictured you as a crier." He whipped his head around to find none other than Jo Harvelle leaning casually against the side of the car with a small smile on her face. Dean felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs as he stared, dumbstruck, at the woman in front of him. He scrambled to his feet, watching while the Jo-like being stared at the car, inspecting the damage. "What the hell did you do to this poor thing?"

"Uh, no offense, but didn't you just die?" Dean asked carefully, his hand moving to the knife at his hip. His eyes combed over the creature's body; it looked just like Jo. Dean watched as she ran her hand over a particularly large dent in one of the car's doors. The moonlight illuminated her clear pale skin and glistened on her golden curls; she was even more beautiful than Dean remembered. Every one of her movements had a haunting familiarity that pierced Dean with sadness. How many times had he seen her walking around the bar in the same way she was circling the car? How often had she paused with her hands on her hips to roll her big brown eyes at him like she was doing now? The thing was definitely Jo, but Dean didn't trust it.

"Believe me, Dean, I'm not here to kill you," she said, looking into Dean's wary eyes. Jo gave an exaggerated sigh as she walked towards him with her arm outstretched. "Go ahead, test me." She sounded almost bored. Dean poured salt and holy water on her forearm from the flasks in his pocket, and gave Jo a small cut with the demon knife. He stared at her incredulously and Jo just arched her eyebrows. "I told you it was me, halfwit," she said, suppressing a smile.

Wordlessly, Dean grabbed Jo and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. Jo grinned and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as she could. "Oh god, Jo," Dean whispered into her hair, feeling tears flood his eyes once more. The two stood like that for a minute, just holding each other, neither one wanting to be the first to let go.

Surprisingly, it was Dean who pulled back first. He put his hands on either side of her face and smiled, his watery green eyes meeting hers. "Have you gone soft, Dean-o?" Jo asked with a laugh, wiping away the lone tear sliding down Dean's cheek. The two broke apart and crawled onto the hood of the Rabbit, leaning against the better looking half of the windshield.

Dean looked over at the radiant woman next to him; she seemed healthy, happy, and alive, the exact opposite of how she'd looked the last time he'd seen her. Part of her shirt had ridden up when she clambered onto the hood of the car, revealing the soft skin of her side, the same side that had been shredded by the hellhound. There was no blood, no gash-not even a scar from the injury that had ended her life. Jo pushed her hair out of her face and caught Dean staring at her. "What?" she asked.

Dean pointed to her side. "You're okay."

She laughed, a real laugh, and the sweet sound filled Dean with something suspiciously close to happiness. "Yeah, unlike you." She gestured to the cut on Dean's arm. "Seriously Dean, I'm not even gone a full day and you can't take care of yourself?" she scolded. She tugged on Dean's sleeve and he peeled off a few layers until he was just in his t-shirt. Jo pulled his arm closer, inspecting the still bleeding wound. "Well, it's not pretty, but I don't think you'll need stitches. Can I see your knife?" Dean handed it over and Jo used it to cut a strip from her tank top. He recognized it as the one she'd been wearing when they first met.

"No offense, but what are you?" Dean asked, watching as she tied the black fabric tightly against his arm.

Jo pretended to look hurt. "Oh, that hurts, Dean," she said, tying the last knot in his makeshift bandage. Dean looked at her seriously and Jo shrugged as she tossed his coats back. "Honestly, I have no idea. I mean, I feel normal, but I'm not alive. I can't be, right?" Dean nodded solemnly; part of him had hoped that Jo was back, like _really_ back, but Dean knew that would've been too good to be true. He slid his arms back into the sleeves of his many jackets and looked over at Jo, trying unsuccessfully to hide the disappointment in his eyes.

"Hey, don't be so negative; you've got me now," Jo said with a smirk. "And I'm not going anywhere." She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on the crook of Dean's shoulder. He automatically put his arm around her, holding Jo close once again and loving the feeling of her curled up beside him. It felt as though Jo belonged there in his arms.

Maybe that meant something.

The two sat quietly on the hood of the car, listening to the sound of the icy November wind rustling through the trees. Dean didn't know how long they'd been sitting there; it could've been minutes, hours, days… He'd lost track long ago. "Jo, I-I'm sorry," Dean started, finally breaking the silence. "This is my fault. If I would've just-" Jo sat up quickly, putting a slender hand over his mouth to silence whatever he was trying to say. He tried to push her away, but Jo kept her hand in place.

"Shut up," she said. Jo took her hand away from Dean's mouth as his eyebrows knotted together in a frown. "I can take care of myself, Winchester. It was my choice to go back and save your ass." Dean looked like he was about to say something else, but Jo cut him off again. "Dean, you carry way too much shit. The entire world doesn't rest on your shoulders." Dean pressed his lips together and looked down at the rusty car beneath them.

"Hey," Jo said in a softer tone, lifting his face up to meet hers, "you think you're the only one who can sacrifice yourself for someone else. If I could do that night all over again, I wouldn't change a thing." She lifted one hand and rested it against the side of Dean's face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, feeling a little of the guilt he was carrying drift away.

Dean opened his eyes and he was struck again by Jo's beauty. "I love you," he said breathlessly.

Jo smiled sadly. "I know."

Dean kissed her then; he breached the gap between them and kissed her with all the passion he could muster. The two melded together, never parting for a second. Eventually the couple stopped, just resting their foreheads together. Jo sighed and pulled away, biting her lip with regret. "I need to go." She got up from the car slowly, followed closely by Dean.

"Will I ever see you again?" he croaked desperately.

"Of course, you're not getting rid of me that easy," Jo teased with a wink. "You should fix up that car, though" she added gesturing to the Rabbit. "It's cute and really didn't deserve to be beaten up like that." Dean glanced down at the car, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Jo turned, as if to leave, but turned right back around when she heard Dean's voice. "Hey Jo, thanks," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "for everything."

Jo smiled. "Anytime, sunshine. Oh, and by the way," she added before leaning in close to whisper "I love you too." She grinned at Dean's shocked expression and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before lifting her hand up and sliding his eyelids closed.

Dean opened his eyes a second later to find himself sitting on the ground, leaning against the VW Rabbit once again. He rubbed his face. That had been one hell of a dream. He must've sat down after destroying the car and dozed off; he hadn't exactly gotten very much sleep as of late. Dean glanced forlornly at the spot on the car where Jo had been sitting only minutes before and felt more alone than ever. She had felt so…real when she was resting in his arms.

But it was just a dream.

Dean shook his head to clear his mind. He stretched his stiff arms and felt the cloth still knotted snugly around his bicep. He frowned as he looked closer. Yes, that was definitely the same fabric that Jo had tied around his cut in his dream. Dean looked around, finding himself totally alone. If he didn't tie that bandage, who did? Dean felt a smile slowly creep over his face as he let himself think about the dream. She said he'd see her again; she said she wasn't going anywhere…

Maybe he wouldn't have to live without her after all.

_My first fanfic EVER, so here's hoping it turned out okay! This was originally intended to be a oneshot, but I'd be more than happy to continue it if people want me to. _

_Feel free to comment – I'd love to hear what y'all think!_

_P.S. This is dedicated to my friend, Dorit, who introduced me to Supernatural. You're the best girly! Love you!_


	2. Another Kind of Afterlife

Hey everyone! Sorry it took me over a month to write this (yikes!) and I promise I will update more often. I had some family stuff going on these past few weeks, but the majority of that is cleared up now, so I can work more on writing! I've got some ideas, so hopefully you guys will like them and this story will actually work out!

Xoxo Zabby

For Lucy

Jo had always liked the dark. She knew she shouldn't, her father had taught her that ages ago, but there was something about the pitch blackness that comforted her, made her feel warm and safe no matter where she was.

Black was constant. This place, however, was not.

This blackness was something completely different from the color that had comforted Jo as a child; it enveloped her into its enormous, suffocating arms and threatened to swallow her whole.

Jo knew she'd died, but she had never heard of any afterlife like this.

Jo looked around, trying to get a grip on her surroundings and stifle the paralyzing fear that had taken over her body. She started with the simple things. She was lying on the floor; it was cold and hard, maybe concrete. Jo took a deep breath and told the fearful part of her brain to shut up as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Jo couldn't see more than a foot in front of her face and what she did see was pitch blackness. Briefly afraid that she'd gone blind, Jo held one hand close to her face, relieved when she saw the faint outline of her hand. Wherever she was, Jo had both her vision and her body (although neither of them were doing her much good at the moment) and that comforted her. Jo stood up then, hoping that she could see more from a higher viewpoint.

She couldn't.

Swallowing the panic that had risen in her throat, Jo decided to explore, because, even in her most terrified state, Jo Harvelle couldn't bear standing around waiting to be rescued. As she staggered around with her arms stuck straight out in front of her, Jo tried to determine her location. This was definitely not heaven; heaven wouldn't be this dark, or terrifying. Purgatory? Jo didn't think so. Purgatory would probably be a lot more violent than this. Hell? She froze; hell was definitely a possibility.

Jo's eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip harshly, trying to stop herself from breaking down. The tears poured down her face anyway and she bit down harder on her lip. The metallic taste of her own blood soon filled Jo's mouth. Shit. She explored her lip carefully with her tongue, wincing slightly when it stung. Jo sighed; oh well, at least she knew she was human.

Taking what seemed like her millionth deep breath, Jo resumed her shaky walk, forcing herself to stay calm and racking her brain for all the things she knew about hell. She'd done quite a bit of research once upon a time when a…friend was in hell. Jo exhaled sharply, trying to focus on the information instead of the person who'd been in hell, because if she did think about that person, she knew she'd start crying again.

After walking a few more steps, Jo spotted a faint light that grew larger with every step she took. She broke into a run and soon found herself in a sort of hallway, which stretched as far as the eye could see and was filled with doors. Every door looked different, but each had a single window. Jo breathed a sigh of relief; this place definitely wasn't hell.

Jo approached the door nearest to her and leaned in close to look through the window. She jerked her head back almost immediately; inside the room, Jo saw a man strapped to a table while a different man skinned the other alive. She yanked on the doorknob, but found it locked. Jo pounded on the door and threw her weight against it, screaming and trying desperately to get the person to stop, but they were completely oblivious to the racket she was making.

Jo clapped a hand over her mouth, attempting to contain the scream that threatened to escape her lips. She scrunched her eyes shut and turned around, running a few steps down the hallway and leaning her back against the wall. She was shaking like a leaf and buried her face in her hands.

Jo was totally and utterly powerless, and that was the worst feeling in the world.

After a minute or two, Jo decided to move on; she couldn't help the man in the room and there was no use staying slumped against the wall. Gritting her teeth, Jo walked further down the hall and looked into the first window she saw. She could just make out what looked like a girl sitting at a kitchen table drawing a picture. The girl was small, maybe around five, and was talking animatedly to someone who was just out of Jo's line of sight. She was grinning from ear to ear and Jo grew even more confused. Where the hell was she? A man was being tortured in one room and a little girl was drawing pictures in the next?

Jo continued her walk down the hallway, more determined than ever to find out where she was. She looked into the window of every door she passed. Jo saw more scenes of torture, a man flying a kite, a few surgeries, a prison execution, a college graduation and every single door was locked tightly. No matter how much she yelled and banged on the doors, Jo was totally invisible to the strangers in the rooms. In fact, it wasn't until forty-three doors and a dozen or so hours later that Jo saw something (or rather someone) she recognized:

Dean.

He was running through what looked like Bobby's junkyard. The window followed Dean as he weaved through the mangled cars. Jo craned her neck, looking around for whatever was chasing him, but saw nothing. He finally tripped on something (maybe a stray tire?) and fell against one of the smaller cars on the lot. Dean appeared to be on the verge of tears at first, but the look in his eyes quickly turned to anger as he picked up a fallen pipe and started hitting the car. He was yelling something that Jo couldn't hear. She reached up a fist and banged on the glass, but Dean couldn't hear it.

As Dean's swings grew increasingly angrier, Jo became more and more anxious, doing everything she could to draw his attention to her. Dean was obviously distressed and Jo knew how destructive Dean got when he was upset. True, Jo didn't exactly know what he was upset about (she wasn't even sure how long she'd been in the hallway), but she'd be damned if she didn't do everything she could to try to stop Dean from hurting himself or someone else. Jo yanked on the doorknob, twisting and turning it so harshly she was sure it would break off at any second, but it never gave way. She focused her attention on the rest of the door, throwing herself at it and screaming Dean's name at the top of her lungs. He never flinched, didn't even acknowledge her. He just kept smashing that car.

Jo saw the piece of glass coming before Dean did. She froze, cringing as she watched the shard slash across his upper arm. Dean paused, glancing briefly at the wound before sinking to the ground. Jo could see the tears in his eyes and felt her heart shatter when she finally looked at his lips and read what they were saying. Jo had never been very good at reading lips, but she sure as hell knew her own name when she saw it, and Dean was saying it, over and over and over again.

Jo.

Jo felt like all the air had been knocked out of her lungs, like her legs had been turned to jelly and her head to pulp. She slumped against the door, tears welling in her eyes as the realization struck her that Dean was crying over her.

The strongest man in the world was breaking down because of her.

"Dean," she whispered, tracing his frail outline in the window pane, "I'm sorry; I'm so, so sorry." Wet hot tears streamed down her face and, just as Jo was about to start having a full-on sob attack, a haunting voice spoke clearly behind her.

"Try the doorknob," it breathed. Jo whipped her head around, panicked eyes searching for the voice's origin, but she was totally alone.  
Trying to ignore the shivers that ran down her spine, Jo turned back to the door, frowning at the voice's suggestion. The doorknob was locked; she'd spent the last fifteen minutes trying to get it to work with absolutely no success. "I already did, asshole," she muttered. But, just for the hell of it, Jo placed one hand on the doorknob and twisted it roughly. Much to her amazement, the door swung open and into Bobby's junkyard.

The cool November air rushed against her face and Jo breathed it in hungrily as her eyes locked on Dean's still-shaking form collapsed against the car. She stepped one foot through the door before glancing back towards the dark hallway. Jo was hesitant to go through; a small voice in her head told her that this was too easy, that this was all just an elaborate trap and she would end up in some boiling pit in the depths of hell, but, with one glance at Dean's quivering form, Jo knew she wanted to take the risk.

If there was one thing Jo couldn't handle, it was seeing the people she loved in pain, and hell, she loved Dean. Jo had fallen in love with him the moment she'd pressed that rifle against his back in the Roadhouse all those years ago. Their first kiss was full of everything and nothing all at the same time; she could taste sorrow and heartbreak on his lips and that hurt her more than hellhounds ever could. With one kiss, Jo tried to tell Dean that it was okay, that she didn't blame him, that meeting him was one of the best things that had ever happened to her… Their first kiss had been their last, and Jo was determined to change that.

She stepped cautiously into Dean's world, letting the door swing shut behind her. Jo glanced over her shoulder and found that the door had completely vanished. She raised her eyebrows with vague surprise, but decided to investigate it later.

Right now, there was a sobbing Winchester to deal with.


	3. No Matter What

_Hey guys! Here's just a short chapter. I'm going to try and upload another chapter later this week since this one is so short. Happy Easter!_

Goodbyes are a bitch.

In Jo's opinion, goodbyes were designed by Satan himself to further torture innocent humans. Jo always made a point never to say goodbye to anyone, and nothing was ever going to change that. When the door appeared behind her and Dean, Jo knew she had to leave, even before the Voice whispered it in her ear.

Leaving Dean was one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do, so she promised she'd be back, even though she had no way of knowing if it whether or not that was possible. She told him she loved him, something she'd been dying to say for years, and walked towards the door with tears shining in her eyes. She didn't dare look back at Dean, worried her eyes would betray her promises. She had hoped that her promise would comfort him, but she now worried that she had only caused him pain.

Hope was the most painful of all emotions.

Jo stepped back into the hallway, hearing the door close behind her. When she turned around, she was greeted with a blank wall; the door had vanished. Jo stared at the wall dismally and realized that she had something more powerful than hope: determination. Nothing was going to keep her from Dean, not now, not ever. She would find his door again; she'd figure out how to get back into Dean's world and she'd figure out how to stay.

Jo had been a weakling today-she should've challenged the Voice, shown it that it couldn't boss her around, but Jo had a feeling that she hadn't heard the last of the voice. She'd have her chance. Jo didn't care how long it took; she would find her way back to Dean… No matter what.


	4. Fuel for the Next Venture

_Hey everyone! So here is my update, another little one for now, but I pinky promise I will be updating again this Thursday and it will be a longer chapter!_

_This is dedicated to JBethH, who has been my loyal comment-er since chapter 1! You rock, girly!_

Dean was dazed as he stood up. He glanced at the spot on the hood of the car where Jo had been sitting only minutes before. He ran his hand over it and a huge grin spread over his face as he remembered their conversation.

Jo loved him.

The fierce, amazing, terrifying, incredible Jo Harvelle actually loved him back.

Sure, Dean knew that she had a crush on him, but he didn't think it went any further than that. When Jo said she loved him… God, Dean's heart flew. No, it didn't fly; it soared. His heart soared high above the rooftops, swooping through the trees, above the mountains and clear up into outer space. It spun in the air, twisting and twirling with delight as it danced among the stars.

His heart came tumbling back down to Earth immediately after Jo left, but part of his joy still remained and that joy was going to fuel him through his next venture: rescuing Jo from wherever she disappeared to.

Dean seemed to remember reading something in one of Bobby's books about ghosts who were resistant to salt. He had to find it; maybe if he was able to find that book he'd be able to bring Jo back for good. Dean took off running towards Bobby's house. He reached the house in a surprisingly short amount of time and raced up the steps to Bobby's house. Dean burst through the front door, heading straight for the bookshelf in the study. His eyes skimmed over the thousands of books, searching for the one that contained the secret of how to rescue Jo.

_His _Jo.


	5. You Saw Who?

_Hey everyone! As promised, here is the latest chapter! I'm sorry things are a little slow-moving, but everything will become more fast-paced starting soon, so just stick with me for a tiny bit longer! _

_Reviews make my day, so PLEASE tell me what you think! _

_I love you all! Xoxo Zabby_

When Dean was happy, truly, genuinely happy, he got this smile. This silly, slightly crooked, toothy, amazing grin illuminated his face and spread to everyone around him. It was like a scene out of a Disney movie; birds would sing and the sun would shine just because Dean was happy.

Sam missed that smile.

When he was a kid, Sam used to try to make Dean smile by dancing around him in various insane ways. The acts usually just annoyed him, but sometimes Dean would get that magical grin and pick Sam up, spinning him around before flinging him down onto whatever dingy motel bed they were staying in.

Sam loved those moments.

Over the years, Dean had perfected his fake smile, the smile that he used when he was pretending everything was okay when the world was really crumbling around him. Many people couldn't tell the difference, but Sam always could.

Dean's fake smile never reached his eyes.

When the brothers had first met the Harvelles, Sam hadn't thought much about Jo. She was pretty and an okay hunter, but she had never made any kind of lasting impression on him. It was obvious, however, that Jo liked Dean; she'd always go out of her way to be near him and seemed to cling onto his every word. Sam almost pitied her; he'd seen that look on many women over the years and Dean had never reciprocated for more than one night. Sam had always assumed that Dean felt the same way about Jo that he did, until one night, when he saw something he hadn't seen in years.

It was one of the first times the Winchesters had visited the Roadhouse, Sam was sitting at the bar with Ash and Ellen, discussing a potential case they had found a few days earlier. While Ellen and Ash argued over the existence of Bigfoot, Sam's attention was caught by Dean and Jo. They were standing by the pool table, totally lost in conversation. Jo tilted her head to the side slightly as she made some witty comeback to one of Dean's crude comments, leaving Sam a clear view of his brother's face. As Jo spoke, the corners of Dean's mouth twisted up into his infamous grin.

Sam felt his jaw drop. The smile totally transformed Dean; all of his worries and fears vanished in those few moments of laughter with Jo. Sam couldn't help but stare; he hadn't seen that smile in years, literally. The boys hadn't even known her for a whole week and Jo had already made Dean happier than he'd been in a long time.

After that, Sam noticed that whenever Dean was around Jo, his smile always reached his eyes. That was his biggest sign, the sign that something was different about this girl, that something was different about _his brother _and this girl.

No one Sam knew could make Dean truly smile every time they were around him. Sam kept waiting for them to hook up, but, surprisingly, it never happened. Sam was curious, of course, but whenever he would mention Jo, Dean's ears would turn scarlet and he immediately changed the subject.

Dean loved Jo, and Sam knew it.

When Jo stopped talking to Dean after hunting the spirit of H.H. Holmes, Sam could tell Dean was devastated, but he never said anything. Sam pretended not to notice when he saw Dean just staring blankly at his phone with Jo's number dialed in from memory; he pretended not to notice how Dean would mutter her name in his sleep.

After the incident in Duluth, Sam felt insanely guilty that the demon who had possessed him made him nearly hurt Jo, but, even more than that, he hated the lies the demon told. He hated that the demon had told Jo that Dean didn't love her; he'd seen how that had crushed her and he knew that his brother wasn't going to come right out and say how he felt.

Sam watched as Dean continued to sit with his phone, continued to shout her name in his sleep… Sam urged him to call her a couple of times, but Dean completely ignored him, pretending to be oblivious to his feelings for Jo.

The next time they saw Jo after getting War's ring, Sam prayed the two would just settle their differences and tell each other how they felt. Instead, Dean and Jo would take turns staring longingly at each other while the other's back was turned, which drove Sam crazy. He wanted to grab his brother and shake some sense into him, but Dean let Jo walk away, even though Sam knew it killed him inside.

Dean probably thought that by staying away, he was protecting her, but he should know better. Jo could defend herself easily; had Dean forgotten the nearly-broken nose Jo had given him the day they met?

When the Harvelles and Winchesters got together at Bobby's, Sam hoped Dean would tell Jo how he felt once and for all, and he did, sort of. He went and asked her to sleep with him, which was, as Sam knew, all just an act. Sure, Dean wanted to sleep with Jo, but more than anything, Dean wanted to be alone with her, to hold her in his arms and tell her how he felt. Of course, Jo had rejected him. If Dean had just told her he wanted to talk to her in private, Jo probably would've gone, but no.

Dean was an idiot.

And now it was too late; Jo had died never knowing how Dean felt, and Dean would have to live never knowing how Jo felt about him. When Dean stormed off after they burned the picture in Bobby's fireplace, Sam waited up for his brother, knowing how distraught Dean would be when he came back.

You can imagine Sam's surprise when Dean ran back into the house at around two in the morning, grinning like a madman.

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Sam had been sleeping somewhat-peacefully in Bobby's desk chair when Dean came flying back inside. Sam was jolted awake and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Dean ruffling through the books stacked haphazardly around the house. "Dean? Dean, is that you?" Sam asked groggily, reaching blindly for Bobby's desk lamp. He yanked the chain and the light flickered slightly before shining its dim glow on Dean, who was frantically scanning the bookcase a few feet away.

"What are you looking for?" Sam asked, rubbing his eyes. Dean didn't answer. "Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked, starting to get concerned. "Dean?"

Sam stood up slowly, grabbing a flask of holy water before walking towards his brother. The chances of Dean being possessed were slim, but something was obviously wrong; why would he be digging through Bobby's bookshelf at 2 am?

Sam crept up behind his brother and threw the holy water at the back of his head, finally getting Dean's attention.

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Dean turned around with a start to find Sam standing with a now empty flask of holy water in his hands and a worried look in his eyes. Huh. Dean hadn't even noticed Sam was in the room. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, finding it dripping wet.

"What'd ya do that for?"

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he replied, "Just making sure you weren't possessed."

Dean nodded, staring at his brother for a second before resuming his search. He knew that the book was somewhere around here… He'd only seen it a month or two ago…

"What are you looking for?" Sam asked as he walked closer to his brother. Dean ignored him; he couldn't think about anything until he found the book. He just had to find the book.

"What's wrong?"

_If I could just find that damn book…_

"Can I help?"

_Where the hell is it? I swear I just saw it…_

"Dean, will you please talk to me?"

_Gotta find it; gotta find it…_

"DEAN!" Sam shouted, grabbing Dean's shoulders and turning him away from the bookshelf. "What's wrong?" Sam asked, sounding desperate. "Can you just explain what's going on!?"

Dean couldn't help the grin that spread over his face as he answered his brother. "I saw her, Sam."

"Saw who?"

"I saw Jo."

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"Jo? You saw Jo?" Sam asked. Dean nodded, still beaming. "Dean, Jo's dead," Sam said cautiously, bracing himself for his brother's reaction.

Much to Sam's surprise, Dean just nodded again as he turned back to the bookshelf. "I know."

Sam glanced at the clock; Dean had been gone for nearly three hours. "You've been gone for a while, Dean. I think you fell asleep and dreamed about her or something."

Dean moved away from the bookshelf in front of him and moved to another one across the room, ignoring his brother. Sam followed him. "Dean, I know how you feel. After Jess died, I used to see her everywhere, but it wasn't really her; it was just my imagination. You were just dreaming."

"I wasn't," Dean replied matter-of-factly, pulling a book off the shelf and flipping through it at breakneck speed.

"I know you want her to be back, man, I do too, but Jo's gone for good. You saw that building explode; there's no way any part of her survived it," Sam said, trying to state the facts as gently as he could.

"I never said she survived it. I just said I saw her. She was, like, a ghost or something, but she was immune to salt…" Dean said softly, shoving the book back on the bookshelf and darting to a pile of books behind Bobby's desk.

"Okay, well, then what is she?" Sam asked with a frown, beginning to grow frustrated with his brother.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Dean said as he opened another book, scanning the pages for the information he so desperately wanted to find.

"Dean, I think you're grasping at straws. Jo's gone. I know that's a hard thing to-"

Dean finally lost it. He threw the book down and turned to his brother. "I did see her, Sam!" Before Sam could say anything else, Dean yanked off his coats, revealing the piece of black fabric still tied tightly around his arm.

Sam's eyes widened. "What-?" he started, but Dean cut him off.

"I got cut outside and Jo just appeared out of nowhere. She tied a piece of her shirt around my arm. I have no friggin clue what or where the hell she is she is and it's killing me!" Dean took a deep breath before he continued. "This wouldn't be here if I hadn't really seen her," he said firmly, pointing to his bandaged arm before shrugging back into his coats and returning to his search.

"Dean…" Sam started.

"Just go away, Sam."

Sam shook his head as he turned away, trudging up the stairs to one of Bobby's spare rooms, leaving Dean to finish his search in solitude. He wandered to the bedroom at the end of the hallway and collapsed on the small bed. Sam ran a hand through his hair; he didn't know what to think.

Of course Dean had been dreaming. There was no way any part of Jo Harvelle could've survived the explosion. Sam wanted to believe Dean, really he did, but the logical part of his brain told him that there was no way any part of Jo could've survived the explosion.

But Dean had sounded so sure that he'd seen her… Maybe he had.

Or maybe Dean had just gone crazy.

Either way, Sam was exhausted. He didn't want to think about this right now. Honestly, he didn't want to think about anything right now; he just wanted to go to bed.

So he did.


	6. They Sure Are Idjits, Aren't They?

_Hello my lovelies! Sorry for not updating sooner. It was finals week here so I was a tad bit busy, but I'm back now! Thank you so much to everyone who commented and if you haven't commented, please do! I love hearing what you all think. _

_Sorry if it's still a little slow-moving, next chapter things will get moving, I promise!_

_xoxo Zabby_

TEN DAYS LATER

Jo flung herself down and beat her fists against the cold concrete floor as she screamed. She was still in the seemingly endless hallway, searching for a door that seemed to have disappeared entirely. Jo had no clue how long she'd been looking for Dean's door, but she knew it had to have been at least a week since she last saw him. During that time, Jo had searched the hallway, peering into the window of every door she passed, but she hadn't been able to find the door that would lead her back to Dean.

_Her_ Dean.

Jo hadn't stopped moving since she'd been back in the hallway, but now she did. She felt the exhaustion wash over her, not physically, but emotionally. Physically Jo was fine; all of her human needs (like sleep, food, water, etc) had vanished since she first appeared in the hallway, which she didn't particularly miss. Jo's emotions, however, were wearing out; the determined attitude she once possessed was fading rapidly and she was losing hope. All Jo wanted was Dean and maybe a nice bath, preferably simultaneously, but instead she was stuck in this godforsaken hallway.

"Where is it? Why are you hiding him?!" Jo screamed, praying that once, just once, the Voice would answer her questions. She'd holler at the Voice every now and then, but it never answered; Jo never really expected it to, but it was worth a shot, right?

Jo punched the floor once more before sitting up, angry tears running down her face. She wiped the tears hastily as she continued slowly down the hallway, staring blankly into the windows she passed. Jo was about four doors down when she saw something that made her halt. On the other side of the door laid an elderly woman. She was lying on a hospital bed with what looked like a translucent skeleton hovering over her. Jo screamed and pounded on the door, but the door vanished seconds later. Jo's heart raced and her brow furrowed with confusion. In all of the doors, she hadn't seen anything remotely supernatural, but now…

"Hey!" she shouted, hoping the Voice wouldn't notice how shaky she sounded, "What the hell was that?!" As always, there was no reply. Jo huffed as she moved on down the hallway, nervously playing with the torn edge of her tank top as she walked. She walked for what she guessed was about five minutes before she discovered the door she'd been searching for this whole time.

Dean was lying on his back in the bed of one of Bobby's spare rooms with a worn out book titled _Ghosts and Apparitions of Ancient Egypt _resting on his chest. Dean himself was fast asleep, his mouth hanging open and, although she couldn't hear it, Jo was certain he was snoring.

Jo smiled at his sleeping form as she placed her hand on the doorknob, twisting it gently and expecting it to swing open into Dean's world as seamlessly as it had last time.

Naturally, the door didn't open.

Jo swore loudly. "Hey! Mind unlocking the door?"

No answer.

Jo groaned. She threw herself against the door, yanked the doorknob and pounded her fist against the window until her knuckles bled. She considered picking the lock, but she didn't have anything to pick the lock with…or did she?

Jo pulled up the leg of her jeans and retrieved the paperclip she'd used to fix her old anklet a few months back. Grinning triumphantly, Jo stuck the paper clip in the lock and started working. After a minute or two of struggling with her paperclip, Jo was finally able to unlock the door. She stood up with a triumphant grin and looked in the window-finding Dean still fast asleep.

Jo opened the door softly, not wanting to wake Dean. She glanced at the clock: 7:24. Judging by the light outside, it was 7am. Jo grinned; 7am was a perfectly fine time to wake someone up! Trying to be as quiet as she could, Jo crept closer to Dean's bed, staring at him for a second more before sliding into bed next to him.

Jo carefully picked the book up off Dean's chest and set it on the night table before lying on her side and tucking herself under his arm. She rested her head on Dean's shoulder, inhaling his strangely sweet motor oil and whiskey scent. Dean's arms immediately wrapped around Jo, pulling her closer. He turned his head towards Jo, burying his face in her hair and softly kissing the crown of her head. Jo smiled into his chest as she closed her eyes and snuggled closer. "Good morning," she whispered.

Dean smiled. "Mmm, good morning, Jo… Jo!?" Dean's eyes flew open as he sat straight up, taking Jo with him.

"I was wondering when you'd notice!" Jo laughed, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Dean scooted back to lean against the headboard, pulling Jo over so she was straddling him. Jo grinned at Dean for a second before putting her hands on either side of his face and giving him a long, sweet kiss. After a minute or two of kissing and marveling at the feeling of having her back in his arms, Dean just rested his forehead against Jo's and stared into her dark brown eyes. "I can't believe you're here," he whispered with a grin.

"Me either," Jo answered honestly, smiling and bumping her nose against Dean's.

"God, I missed you."

"Not as much as I missed you," Jo whispered with a sad smile. Dean pulled his head back and gave her a small kiss. Jo crawled off of his lap and sat next to Dean, his arm slung casually over her shoulders. "So what've you been up to lately?"Jo asked, playing absentmindedly with his free hand, "I'm surprised you're still here."

Dean watched as she traced little circles on the inside of his palm. He shrugged as he replied. "I haven't done anything really. I told Sam and Bobby that I saw you and they both think I'm insane."

"So no hunting then?"

"Nope, Sammy's gone a couple times, but apparently I'm too 'emotionally unstable'," Dean said, rolling his eyes and freeing his hand briefly to make quotation marks in the air.

Jo smiled as he placed his hand back in hers. "Well, just wait til they find out that _they're_ the crazy ones."

A grin spread quickly over Dean's face as he leapt up from the bed. Jo squeaked in protest when Dean grabbed her, slinging one arm under her knees and one around her back so he was carrying her bridal-style. Jo threw her arms around Dean's neck, kicking her legs and shrieking. "Where are you going?"

"Come on," Dean said with a grin as he marched down the hallway with her.

"I don't think I have much of a choice!" Jo laughed, clinging to his body for dear life.

As they made their way downstairs, Jo could faintly hear Bobby and Sam discussing a potential case. Dean was so excited he practically ran into the living room where the two were talking. He cleared his throat loudly, causing Bobby and Sam to turn their heads. Jo watched their jaws drop when they saw her resting in Dean's arms.

Jo's cheeks burned red as she said, "Dean, put me down!" Dean obliged, setting Jo down gently and grinning over her head at Bobby and Sam. "Uh, hi guys," Jo said, flashing a smile and tucking an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. She took a step towards the men and was greeted with a small handful of salt thrown at her face which was followed by a large splash of holy water. Jo sputtered slightly and wiped her face with her hands.

"Dude!" Dean protested.

"Thanks for that, Sam," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm as she accepted a hand towel from Dean.

Sam smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

Jo moved forward to give Bobby and Sam each a brief hug before returning to Dean's side. Jo bit her lip and looked down, trying to contain the smile and blush that threatened to overtake her face when the still-grinning Dean threw his arm over her shoulder again.

"It's good to see ya, kid," Bobby said, "but why are you here?"

Jo sighed. "Honestly, I have no idea."

"Where were you before this?" Sam asked. Jo did her best to explain the hallway and the Voice; she wasn't reassured when she saw the confused look on the men's faces.

"So this Voice, it just calls you when it wants you to go back?" Dean asked, his brow furrowed.

Jo nodded. "Yeah, that's what happened last time anyway," Jo replied. "Something tells me you guys have never heard of anything like that," she added dismally.

"Can't say that I have," Bobby said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know how long you'll be here?"

"No clue."

"Then we'd better get to work,"

Sitting at the rickety dining room table with a gigantic pile of books, Jo spent the next half hour being interrogated by Dean, Bobby, and Sam (but mainly Sam). Jo answered dozens of questions about the hallway and the doors and what had been going on inside of each door. Bobby identified the flying creature Jo had seen as a reaper, although no one had any clue as to why she would've seen one in the first place. Dean sat next to Jo the entire time, either with his arm around her shoulders or holding her hand. He just couldn't seem to get enough of her, not that Jo was complaining. Dean was her safe haven.

He was her home.

Eventually, Jo couldn't stand spending another precious minute talking about the hallway. "Thank you, gentlemen for listening to my tales, but I'm about to blow my brains out. Mind if we continue this conversation later?" she asked, standing up.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Sam answered, turning his attention to one of the ancient books in front of him.

Bobby couldn't help but smile when Dean and Jo left the table holding hands and grinning at each other like a couple of love-struck teenagers. Bobby was no matchmaker, but he'd always thought Dean and Jo would be good together. The rational part of Bobby's brain wanted to protect Dean, knowing that whatever was going on with Jo wasn't going to end well, but a bigger part of him, the almost fatherly one, loved seeing Dean so utterly delighted. Bobby hadn't seen Dean this happy in a long time and he wanted his boy to enjoy it, even if it later meant heartbreak. Might as well let the two be happy, at least for a little while.

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Dean led Jo outside to show her the VW Rabbit that he'd smashed a few days ago, which he now referred to as 'Jo's car'. Jo beamed as she once again circled the car, trailing her hands up and down the newly smoothed doors. "I'm impressed, Winchester," Jo said with a grin, turning back to Dean and throwing her arms around his neck.

Dean smiled back, putting his hands on her hips to pull her closer. "I'm glad you like it."

"You must've spent a lot of time working on it. Last time I saw it, it looked a little worse for wear," Jo said.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure working on this car is what's been keeping me sane," Dean said with a slight chuckle.

"Does it run?"

"Not yet," Dean replied somewhat sheepishly, "but the radio works." He pulled away from Jo and crawled into the tiny car, twisting the key that was already in the ignition. After punching a couple of buttons, a static filled version of "Can't Fight This Feeling" blasted from the Rabbit's tinny speakers. Jo felt a grin spread across her face as Dean got out of the car and sauntered towards her. He extended one hand as he asked, "May I have this dance?"

"Yes!" Jo laughed, taking his hand as he spun her towards him. Dean held her close as they danced, filling the crisp November morning with the sound of their slightly off-key voices as they both sang along at the top of their lungs.

At first they waltzed, or at least tried to; neither of them were very good dancers, but they couldn't have cared less. The waltz eventually evolved into a sort of salsa, which quickly turned into more of an interpretive dance. By the time the song ended, they both were laughing so hard they had tears streaming down their faces.

Sam and Bobby watched them from the kitchen window. "They sure are idjits, aren't they?" Bobby asked with a sad smile. "I don't think I've ever seen Dean laugh that hard."

Sam shook his head. "Me neither…" he added dismally. "Bobby, what's gonna happen if we can't find a way for Jo stay?"

"I don't know, Sam; I really don't know."

_What did you think? Remember, comments make my day!_


	7. The Rescuer

_For my Elke_

The expression on the woman's face was a perplexing combination of intrigue and pleasure as she watched the young couple dancing and laughing in front of the car that Dean had spent so many hours painstakingly repairing. The woman had never understood happiness, probably because she rarely saw it. In her line of work, she usually dealt more with the opposite emotion.

The woman couldn't explain why she felt so drawn to Dean Winchester. Maybe it was because he was a fighter. The woman respected fighters, admired them in a way. She didn't meet many people who clung to life as much as Dean Winchester did. No matter how rough his life was, Dean refused to give up. Fighters were few and far between in this world, and when Joanna Harvelle, another strong fighter, had died, the woman knew that a major mistake had been made.

Joanna Harvelle was supposed to live for many more years. She was supposed to grow old, have children, grandchildren… The woman didn't know what to do, but she knew she couldn't let Joanna cross over.

So she took Joanna, took her to this hallway – it was the only place she could think of where Death couldn't find her. After taking her to the hallway, the woman left Joanna on her own. She needed to see with her own eyes that she'd made the right decision in saving her. At first, the woman had had doubts, but, once she made it out of the blackness the woman had created, Joanna proved that she deserved to live.

Trying to rescue dying strangers was admirable, refusing to give up even after discovering that the door was locked was impressive, but when she found the door that would lead her to Dean, it occurred to the woman that making the decision to save Joanna wouldn't only save the girl, but it would save Dean. Once she realized this, the woman immediately unlocked the door and watched from afar as Dean and Jo were reunited. Seeing the love in the couple's eyes as they regarded each other made the woman feel as close as she'd ever come to happy.

As much as she wanted to let Joanna stay with Dean, the woman had no choice but to make her come back into the hallway. Allowing Joanna to stay in the real world took away some of her power and she needed that power to continue on with her job. If anyone got the suspicion that the woman had been shirking her responsibilities, they'd surely find out about her disobeying and rescuing Joanna.

The woman had meant to move Dean's door so Joanna could find it easily, but she became overwhelmingly busy and didn't have the time to give the girl a visit with her beloved. When the woman returned from a job to find that Joanna had picked the lock and escaped into Dean's world, she couldn't say that she was surprised, although she was a little annoyed at herself for underestimating the girl.

The woman knew that in order for Dean to survive, she would have to get this girl back into his life permanently and in order to do that, the woman would have to make herself known, and she supposed that now was as good of a time as any to reveal who had been behind saving Joanna. She took a step towards the door, opening it with the faintest click and walking out into the world.

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Jo bent forward, her arms encircling her waist as she convulsed with laughter. "I-I can't b-breathe!" she wheezed between cackles. "Do the, do the thing again!" she requested, straightening up slightly and gesturing wildly.

Seeming to understand, Dean did his spastic version of the robot and Jo doubled over with laughter again, tears pouring from her eyes as she stumbled forward into Dean's arms. Dean himself was cracking up as he held her close. Regaining a shred of his composure, Dean looked down at the quivering woman in his arms. Feeling his gaze upon her, Jo looked up too, still lightly snickering from Dean's dance moves.

Dean shook his head with a chuckle. "God, I love you."

Jo smirked, her face contorting with the effort of trying to control her maniacal giggles. "And I love you, even if you do dance like a deranged monkey!" she added, bursting into a whole new round of guffaws that left her gasping for air.

"What am I going to do with you?" Dean asked. Jo grinned in response as she stood up on her tip-toes to give him a kiss. When the couple broke apart, Jo frowned with confusion as she stared at something over Dean's shoulder. Following her line of sight, Dean turned to find a raven-haired woman standing beside the car.

"Tessa?"


End file.
